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  1. Logbook to a resentment (part VIII)

    The day arrives when I have to leave town and I enter, once again, the heartland of Bolivia. 18 years ago, when I first came here, the road from Santa Cruz heading south was a dirt road which on the rainy season had only one certainty: you would never get to where you were going on time, or on the same day. During the dry season the buses would lift huge plumes of dirt that would fall heavily on the sides of the road, covering everything with a thin layer of brown that gave Bolivia an unmistakable ...
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  2. Logbook to a Resentment (Part VII)

    There are some qualities that a person in my line of business must possess. Patience is one of them. A stomach willing to digest unusual items is another.
    In a few days I will leave the big city and will travel to a town 250 Kms south of Santa Cruz. It belongs to what Bolivians call “la Ruta del Che”, the route of the Che. By Che, of course, they mean Che Guevara, the infamous bandit turned icon, who was captured in La Herradura, not far from Lagunillas. That such an odious man was captured ...
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  3. ATP 2016 in numbers

    All the figures below are based on main draws of ATP tour only – challengers and lower tier events are not included. Qualification matches also not included.

    All the data below is based on 66 ATP tournaments + Olympics + Davis Cup. Total matches taken into account – 2774

    Ranking is based on the following point values:


    Category______T____RU___SF
    Grand_Slam___1000__600__360
    YEC___________750__500__300
    1000_Series___500__300__180
    ...
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  4. Logbook to a resentment (part VI)

    One of the things that gets me angry as I now roam around Santa Cruz is that I used to be able to look down on Bolivia. Bolivia was the poor little country in South America, and I, from Venezuela, could say how much more civilized we were, how much more cosmopolitan. I remember going to the Bolivian embassy and getting a visa which was all of a huge rubber stamp that an impressively small manservant would plant on your passport. Once, when I was about to get the visa, the man stamped it upside down, ...
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  5. Logbook to a resentment (part V)

    Santa Cruz has grown. As I get around a little bit I can tell that it is no longer the dusty town that I knew 18 years ago and where you expected any time for tumbleweed to go by. Sure, it still has some oddities that are without explanation: just today, as I sat eating lunch, a horse went by the street, trotting with no saddle, no reigns and obviously no idea of where it was going. Nor an indication that it was nervous about that fact.
    I am lodged, for the first few days, in a small hotel ...
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